Bella's POV
Genevieve walked me through the estate gates, her voice carrying to the waiting servants. "Have Lady Bella cleaned up first, then bring her to see Lady Ursula."
She turned to me with that practiced gentle smile. "Your grandmother's health has been declining. She's been surviving on herbal remedies for years now. When you meet her, be polite and affectionate. Don't mention anything about the past—it would only distress her."
I nodded without speaking.
Ursula had always been the most just member of our family, but age had pulled her away from managing household matters.
Seeing my compliance, Genevieve seemed to unwind slightly.
She pressed on, clearly testing boundaries. "You're of marriageable age now—in your prime. What occurred at the camp... we won't discuss it again. If anyone discovers you spent years living alongside soldiers, day and night, tongues will wag.
"That sort of scandal could destroy your marriage prospects. I've already prepared a story. We'll claim you were away recovering from illness, and you've just returned home."
My expression didn't change. I murmured a quiet "Yes" and followed the assigned maid.
But after several turns, something felt off. This path didn't lead to my old rooms.
When I questioned her, the maid's smile brightened as she explained, "Lady Ivy has suffered from poor health for years. The physician claimed the trees in your courtyard created too much moisture, harming her condition. So they chopped them all down.
"To aid her recovery, they demolished your courtyard and combined it with hers. They even redirected hot spring water there for her treatments. But Lady Genevieve had this new courtyard prepared and cleaned before your arrival."
The maid spoke as though this arrangement made perfect sense, completely reasonable.
As if everyone had conveniently overlooked that I was the legitimate daughter—while Ivy was merely adopted.
The maid guided me to a cramped, plain courtyard and opened the door. "This will be your home now, Lady Bella."
The space felt much smaller than my previous quarters, and without any plants, it appeared stark and lifeless.
Two unknown maids stepped forward and curtsied. "Lady Bella."
I didn't recognize either face. After my long absence, most of the household staff had turned over.
One had round cheeks, the other sharp features. Both were pretty and alert—obviously chosen for appearance and wit.
"I'm Phoebe Shelby."
"I'm Daisy Hadley."
In unison, they said, "Greetings, Lady Bella."
I nodded briefly and gestured for them to stand.
Then I asked, "What happened to Iris and Elsie?"
They had been my personal attendants before my exile. But once I entered the military camp, all word of them disappeared.
The maid smiled and answered, "Shortly after you departed, both found husbands. I assume they're enjoying quiet, contented lives now—tending to their spouses and raising babies."
I nodded. A contented life sounded appealing. Much better than serving others forever.
The thought brought me a small measure of comfort. I stepped inside.
Food waited on the table. The meal looked substantial—four dishes plus soup—but the portions were tiny, no bigger than my fist.
I started eating. One serving of pasta vanished in mere bites.
My eyebrows drew together. "Is there more?"
Phoebe appeared momentarily shocked, then quickly nodded. "Of course, I'll fetch it immediately."
Watching my rapid pace, Daisy spoke softly, "Lady Bella, please eat slower. You'll make yourself sick rushing like that."
My fork stopped mid-bite. I had almost forgotten—this wasn't the military camp anymore.
This was the duke's estate. Nobody here would steal my food. Nobody would pour kitchen scraps onto my plate.
The pasta smelled wonderful. The dishes were fresh. And the meat—actual bacon. Not rodent. Not serpent.
Phoebe returned with two additional plates of pasta.
I ate fast and messily. Nothing elegant or refined in my behavior—I resembled a starving vagrant more than a noble daughter.
Phoebe opened her mouth repeatedly to comment but stayed silent each time.
After the meal, servants had prepared hot bathwater. Phoebe and Daisy followed me in. "Lady Bella, let us assist with your bath," Phoebe offered respectfully.
"That's unnecessary. You may go," I said.
Phoebe hesitated, clearly uncertain.
Daisy added with worry, "If Lady Genevieve discovers this, she'll punish us for inadequate service..."
I remained silent. I simply stared at them—steady, emotionless.
No fury in my gaze, no feeling whatsoever.
But the frost behind that empty look made both girls tremble.
Without further words, they retreated from the room and softly shut the door.
Only then did I move behind the screen and start removing my clothes.
My body had withered, skin pulled tight over bones. My once-pale complexion was now marked with bruises—some fresh, others long healed.
Without medical knowledge, I would have perished in that hellhole.
After washing, I reached for the clean garments arranged on the stand. The material was quality—smooth, warm, and properly sized.
But on my emaciated frame, the robe draped loose and formless, making me appear more like a walking corpse than a noble daughter.
"Lady Bella, Lady Genevieve and Lady Ursula are expecting you," Daisy called from outside.
I nodded and headed toward Heron Villa.
In my absence, the duke's estate had transformed dramatically.
I stopped beside the pond, deep in thought.
"What became of the lotus flowers?" I asked.
"Lady Ivy complained about too many mosquitoes during summer," Daisy answered. "So Lord Jasper ordered them all destroyed."
Of course. Ivy—again. I felt that familiar pain in my chest.
When I had first come to this estate, I worked so desperately to earn everyone's affection.
I had planted those lotuses myself, planning to brew wine from the petals and present it to Jasper.
He had chuckled then. "You're my sister. No need for such gestures. But if it brings you joy, I'll help you plant them."
The proud, distant heir had actually dirtied his hands—for me.
Back then, I had thought, 'This must be what being loved feels like.'
But now... clearly, whatever affection they'd shown me paled beside their devotion to Ivy. Not even close.
I reached Ursula's chambers. The room was already crowded.
Genevieve glanced toward the entrance—and her brow furrowed. I could tell from her expression that she was wondering why the robe appeared so oversized on me.